Radetic was startled when he suddenly realized that Fuad was talking about El Murid. It was a revelation. He had not suspected that powerful men were actually afraid of the Disciple. Afraid of a fifteen-year-old who, like themselves, had come to Al Rhemish for the rites of Disharhun, and to see his infant daughter christened before the Most Holy Mrazkin Shrines.

They had been lying to him. And to themselves, probably. Just plain old-fashioned whistling in the dark.

All this fuss over religious nonsense.

Wahlig, this is ridiculous. Barbarous, Radetic grumbled. Even pathetic. The boy is a madman. He crucifies himself every time he preaches. You dont have to trump up charges. Let him have his High Holy Week. Let him talk. Theyll laugh him out of Al Rhemish.

Let me boot this fish-faced pimp, Fuad growled.

Yousif raised a silencing hand. Calm down. He has a right to an opinion. Even a wrong one.

Fuad shut up.

Yousif virtually owned his younger brother. Fuad seemed to have no imagination or aspirations of his own. He was a mirror of Yousif, the Wahligs far-reaching right hand, a sledge used to hammer out anothers dreams. Which was not to say that he always agreed. He and Yousif sometimes argued bitterly, especially when the latter was pushing an innovation. Sometimes Fuad won his point. But once a decision had been handed down he would support it to the death.

Wahlig

Be silent a moment, Megelin. Let me tell you where youre wrong. Yousif rearranged his cushions. This is going to be long-winded. Get comfortable.

Radetic considered Yousifs tent to be furnished in garish, barbarous taste. The Children of Hammad al Nakir, when they could afford it, surrounded themselves with intense color. The reds, greens, yellows and blues around Yousif so clashed that Radetic could almost hear their conflict.

Fuad, see if you can find some refreshments while I start to educate our educator. Megelin, youre wrong because youre too convinced of the correctness of your own viewpoint. When you look around here you dont see a culture. You see barbarians. You hear our religious arguments and cant believe we take them seriously because you cant. I grant you, a lot of my people dont either. But the majority do.

As for El Murid and his henchman, you see only a deranged boy and a bandit. I see a huge problem. The boy is saying things everyone wants to hear. And believe. And Nassef just might have the genius to carve out El Murids new Empire. The two together might have an overpowering attraction for our children. Our children, otherwise, have no other hope than to relive our yesterdays.